Eye Contact
by sunisrisingonawinchester
Summary: A Destiel poem. If I write more, I'll post them with this one. This is where my Destiel is going.
1. Eye Contact

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
When hearts stop,  
And breaths mingle between.  
When words remains unsaid,  
And all others are unseen,  
Meet the eyes of Righteous man,  
And the Man who would be King.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
When planets stop,  
With a shuddering keen.  
Monsters are given pause,  
Just before they flee,  
When the Angel of Thursday,  
Locks eyes with Dean.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
And worlds are saved,  
By this deadly team,  
With souls that shine,  
With a beautiful sheen.  
This is what happens,  
When blue eyes meet green.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
Through dangers unnumbered,  
And trials unseen,  
Through fire, brimstone,  
Through ice and between,  
Through Heaven and Hell,  
When blue eyes meet green.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
And battles are fought,  
And won for humanity.  
Trials are fought and overcome,  
And the future is seen.  
Heroes are made,  
When blue eyes meet green.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
And monsters destroy,  
With a vicious scream,  
Heroes will die,  
While children dream,  
The world isn't saved,  
When blue eyes meet green.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
And tears are shed,  
With a heartbroken keen.  
And eyes close once more,  
On sights they've seen.  
This is how death goes,  
When blue eyes meet green.

When sky blue eyes meet bottle green,  
And one world has ended,  
To the sound of a heart's ping,  
When hope is lost,  
Along with a dream,  
This is how a heart dies,  
When blue eyes meet black.


	2. The Devil's Angel Food Cake

**The Devil's Angel Food Cake**

**A/N: Destiel fluff! Thanks to Keely for the request and idea. I was so excited about this one. Set beginning of Season 10.**

* * *

Castiel hears the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine outside a crappy motel. He stumbles to the door with a racking cough.

Dean is at the door when he opens it.

"Hey, Cas," Dean smirks.

"Hello, De-" Cas' greeting is interrupted by another series of coughs that shake his whole body.

"Cas?" Dean asks, catching Castiel's arm and supporting him.

"I-I'm f-fi-fine," Cas says between coughs. Dean leads him into the crappy motel room and forces him onto the couch. He waits until Cas stops coughing.

"Your Grace is almost gone," Dean observes.

"It's under control," Cas replies weakly.

"Liar. You're dying."

"I'm not dying, you ass," Cas says, rolling his eyes. "I'm just sick."

"Angels don't get sick."

"How's your soul, Dean?"

"Don't make this about me. I'm here to take care of you."

"I- I- don't" Cas' protest is cut off with a cough.

"Yep. You're getting some rest. Come on," Dean tells him, pulling him up off the couch. Cas stands, but his knees buckles. Dean catches him before he falls, picks him up bridal style and carries him to the bed. Cas' body curls up as coughs shake him. "Easy. Shallow breaths, slowly"

As Castiel's coughing slows, Dean moves away from the bed.

"Get some sleep. I'll make... I dunno, tea or something."

"Angels don't sleep," Cas replies weakly.

"Well, you do," Dean replies, pushing gently at Cas' shoulders. Cas leans back against the pillows, watching Dean move around the kitchenette until his eyes slip shut.

* * *

When Cas' eyes open, he is laying down in the bed, blankets covering him. There is a glass of water on the table next to the bed. Cas grabs it and takes a sip.

"Better?" Dean asks. He's leaning against the counter, watching Cas.

"Were you watching me sleep?"

"Yeah, don't really see the appeal."

Castiel starts to get up.

"Hey, why don't you take it easy?" Dean suggests.

"No, I need to get up," Cas insists stubbornly. Dean rolls his eyes.

"Alright, then, Do you want to help me?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to make a devil's food cake. I feel like being ironic today."

"Why are you making a cake?" Cas asks, joining Dean.

"Because I felt like it."

"What can I do?"

"Grab the eggs from the fridge," Dean tells him, opening a bag of sugar and pouring it into a measuring cup.

"Did you go to the store?" Cas asks.

"Demon, Cas," Dean remind him, eyes flickering black. "Put eggs in the bowl."

Cas begins removing eggs from the carton.

"How many?"

"Two," Dean tells him, eyes on the sugar, which he pours into another bowl.

"Here you go, Dean," Cas says, handing him the bowl with two eggs in it. Two _whole_ eggs. Dean bursts out laughing.

"You have to _crack_ the eggs, Cas."

"Oh," Cas replies. He lifts the eggs out of the bowl and crushes one in his hand. He drops the runny ooze, shell and all, back into the bowl.

Dean sighs affectionately.

"Here, measure out some flour. _I'll_ deal with the eggs," Dean tells him, trading places. Cas watches Dean crack the eggs and dump the insides into a bowl with practiced ease. "See something you like?" Dean teases, glancing up and seeing Cas watching him. Castiel turns back to the measuring cup. He opens the bag labelled flour and upends it into the cup, dumping the entire bag into the cup and onto the counter.

"Whoa, Cas, what the Hell?" Dean exclaims, moving over and grabbing the bag. The bag is only half-empty, and Dean's sudden movement flings flour across the kitchen and the two of them. Dean and Cas stare at each other as the flour begins to settle.

"You told me to measure flour. You didn't tell me how much," Cas tells him.

"Oh, Jesus," Dean sighs. Suddenly, he glances at Cas, who is covered in a light dusting of flour and chuckles.

"What?" Cas asks irritably.

"You're _covered_ in flour. It looks like snow," Dean tells him, laughing. "You're a snow angel."

"I do not understand why this is so funny."

"I don't know. It's just funny, Cas," Dean says, dusting flour off of Cas' nose. "Boop."

Cas smiles at that, brushing flour from Dean's hair, purposely messing it up a little. Dean ducks away, laughing, grabbing a handful of flour off the counter and tossing it at Cas. It flutters harmlessly to the ground in front of him.

Quickly, the baking experiment dissolves into a food fight, eggs, sugar, and flour flying dangerously. Dean and Cas are filthy when they stop, laughing, ribs aching from laughing so hard.

They lean against the counter, catching their breath.

Dean glances at the kitchenette.

"Oops."

"What?"

"The kitchen is a mess," Dean remarks. "Oh, well," he shrugs, snapping his fingers and cleaning it.

"What will you do about your cake?" Cas asks.

"I wasn't going to eat it anyway."

Cas sighs.

"I have to shower."

Dean nods, laughing.

"I'll head out then."

"You'll come back, though? Won't you?" Cas asks.

"Sure, Cas. Of course I will."

"Good," Cas replies. He wipes some flour off of Dean's cheek and places a gently kiss there. "See you then."


	3. The Fire Alarm

It was an accident. An honest accident. But a terribly tragic one at that.

Castiel Novak had been unable to sleep. That's when this whole catastrophe had started. Michael and Luke had gotten him all riled up with their arguing, and so when he finally did get home after a long day at work followed by mediating his brothers persistent arguments, he couldn't sleep, even though he desperately had to get up early tomorrow morning to go back to work.

So he had done the only sane thing, and tried to bake some cupcakes. Cupcakes were easy. Cupcakes were soothing.

Until they got abandoned in the oven for a few minutes too long and set off the building's fire alarm.

Castiel had gotten them out of the oven in the split second before the alarm went off- coughing and waving smoke wildly out of his face-, so he was fairly certain the building wouldn't burn down, unless his neighbors made the same mistake and left highly flammable baked goods in their ovens.

Unfortunately, the cupcakes' immediate removal hadn't prevented the alarm from blaring shrilly, waking up the entire building.

So, now Castiel, and all of the tenants of his building, were out on the sidewalk in front of the building. Most of them anticipated this to be a false alarm, and were waiting impatiently for the fire marshall to allow them back inside, but still waited anxiously, hoping that if there _was_ a fire, it wasn't on their floor.

Castiel's neighbors gave him bleary nods, still mostly unconscious. Oh, Castiel hoped they didn't know it was him. Castiel shivered at little due to the cold, glancing at his wrist watch. It was three AM. That explained the sleepwalking zombie look.

He smiled weakly at Mr. Singer, hoping that his smile came across as more commiserating than "sorry I tried to burn the building down at three AM".

At that moment, two hulking men came stumbling out of the building. The taller one was blinking exhaustedly, his long hair sticking out in every direction possible.

"Who the _Hell_ tried to burn down the building?!" the other one bellows. "And why couldn't the son of a bitch wait until later than three _in the morning_?"

Castiel swallows. The shouting one stomps to a grumpy halt next to Castiel.

"Oh, shut up, Dean," Joanna Harvelle from down the hall mutters.

"Make me, Jo," he replies teasingly. A smile bursts across his face, and by God, it is radiant.

Castiel can't remember seeing him before. He must be the one who moved into apartment 13B last week, since that's the only one that's been up for rent recently.

Now that Castiel is less worried about the guy- Dean- giving him a black eye because he woke him up at three AM, he notices that Dean's wearing a leather jacket over his boxers. Which reminds Castiel that it's freezing out here. _Why_ couldn't he have burned down the apartments in July? He shivers.

"Hey, you cold over there?" Dean asks. Castiel shrugs, but he's not sure you can pick it out amidst the shivers. "Here," Dean says, shrugging out of his coat.

"No- I couldn't-" Castiel stammers.

"Take it. You're shivering so hard you'll bite your tongue off."

Castiel takes the jacket cautiously and wraps it around himself. Oh, it's warm. And it smells _so _good. He wants to protest again, but this jacket is warmer than the night chill, so he simply asks,

"Wh-what about you?"

"I'll be fine. I've been colder."

Castiel looks over at Dean to thank him and is struck dumb by the sight of Dean in just his underwear. _Oh God. Castiel, say_ something_. He's going to think you're a nut job._

Dean smirks as Castiel stares openly at him.

"See something you like?" Dean asks. Castiel blushes furiously, ducking his head, and tries to stammer out an apology. "Hey, that's alright. No shame in looking. I'm Dean."

"Ca-Cas-Castiel," Castiel stutters out as he tries to stop shivering.

"Cool name," Dean smiles. "So… Who do you think tried to burn the building down?" he asks, leaning toward Castiel conspiratorially.

"Uh…"

"I personally think it was Andy," Dean tells him with a wink, his green eyes sparkling with impish humor and watching Castiel.

Castiel realizes he's joking and decides to play along.

"Actually, I think it was likely Chuck."

"The owner?"

Castiel is stopped from responding as some fire trucks come barrelling up and several firefighters leap out ready to fight the non-existent fire. Oh God, Castiel should say something.

"So, Cas. How long have you lived here?"

Castiel doesn't fail to notice the nickname Dean gave him, and he blushes a little in spite of himself, turning back to Dean unable to resist the open green eyes.

"About a year and half. My brothers helped me find the place after my last one burned down."

"Not running a really good track record there, are you?" Dean remarks. "Well, let's hope you don't go 0 for two."

Castiel coughs out a laugh.

"Ooh, that one's hot," Dean says, admiring one of the firefighters, squinting a little as he studies the man in question.

"I guess," Castiel mutters, not bothering to mention that when you're standing next to the sun, even a forest fire looks cool by comparison.

"What, not your type?" Dean asks turning back.

"Not really," is all Castiel says. Because how can he explain that until this moment he never had a type, but right now his type is definitely Dean?

"What about that one?" Dean asks, pointing to another. Castiel shakes his head.

"Dean!" the long-haired guy who walked out with Dean comes over. "The fire marshal says we're good to go back inside. Just a false alarm apparently. Let's go back to bed," he says with a yawn.

"Okay, Sammy. Hey, meet Cas. Cas, this is Sam."

"Oh, hello," Castiel says with a sinking feeling. "You two live together?"

"Yep," Dean replies blithely, as if he has no idea how he's shattering Castiel's dreams. "Listen, maybe I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, sure, maybe," Castiel responds, taking off Dean's jacket and holding it out to him.

"Hold on to it," Dean shrugs with a wink. "You need it more than I do."

Castiel watches Dean and Sam walk off towards the building, still holding onto the jacket.

* * *

The next day, Castiel decides to make cookies for all of his neighbors, as an anonymous apology for waking them up in the middle of the night. That night he takes all of the cookies in little plastic baggies and puts them outside everyone's doors. They all have little notes that say "Sorry for trying to burn down the building. Have an apology cookie."

He pauses in front of the apartment that belongs to Sam and Dean. Slowly, he peels off Dean's jacket, folds it, and sets the cookies on top of it. He's kneeling down to set it on the floor in front of their door when the door flies open. Sam pauses in the doorway, barely stopping himself from tripping over him or falling down. Distantly, beyond his shock and sudden panic, he can understand what Dean would see in Sam.

"Oh, hey. Cas, right? Are you here to see Dean?"

"Uh, no. I just- I was just-" Cas stutters, standing up.

"Here, hold on, I'll get him," Sam says. "Hey, Dean!"

"Yeah?" Dean's voice echoes from somewhere in the apartment.

"Cas is here!"

"Wait- I just-"

"He'll be here in a second. Listen, I have to get to work. Good to see you again."

"Uh, yeah, you too," Cas replies as Sam brushes past him just as Dean steps into view in the doorway.

"Hey, Cas," Dean says with that radiant smile of his. Oh, God, Cas is a goner. "Whatcha got there?"

"Huh? Oh! I brought your jacket back," Castiel explains, holding the forgotten bundle out.

"What are these?" he asks picking up the bag.

"Oh, they're, uh-"

"'Sorry for trying to burn down the building'. Wait, did you-"

"It was an accident. I, uh, tried to over-cook some cupcakes, and..."

Dean chuckles.

"Listen, you, uh, want to come in?"

"Oh, I don't know if I should…" Castiel replies nervously.

"Ah, come on. I promise not to ravish the impressionable youth."

"Are you sure your boyfriend won't mind?" Castiel asks quietly, with a bit of inexplicably harsh inflection on the word "boyfriend".

"Boyfriend?" Dean's face scrunches in confusion, which Castiel has to admit is adorable. "Wait, you don't mean _Sam_?" Castiel nods. "Oh my God. No. Nononononono. Sam's my brother."

Castiel blushes more fiercely than ever before. Oh God, how could he have possibly misread that _so _much? And with that embarrassment blooms a little bit of hope. Does that mean Dean is- dare he even hope it- available? Castiel shuts that thought down quickly. Even if he's not dating Sam, there's no way this Adonis isn't in a relationship.

"So, do you want to come in? I promise, my imaginary, non-existent boyfriend won't get offended," Dean offers.

Castiel's inner demon highfives the angel on his shoulder. Score.

"Sure. I mean, if you don't mind," he says, following Dean into his apartment. "Listen, I am sorry about the fire alarm."

"I count it as a win in my book."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asks. Dean blushes, and just when Castiel thought he couldn't get any cuter.

"Well, I got to meet the cute guy who lives in my building."

Castiel's hopes crumble again. He really has to stop aiming so high. This is turning into the most painful experience of his life. Before he can begin to flounder for an excuse to return to his own apartment and try to salvage up the black box of his crush on Dean, Dean smiles and adds a thought onto his previous statement.

"I got to meet you."

Castiel pauses. Does Dean mean that in the sense that he _also_ got to meet Castiel, or does he mean that Castiel _is_ the cute guy?

"Actually, Sam was going to force me to find your apartment and ask you out, since apparently I won't stop talking about you, but since I didn't know you're apartment number…" Dean starts to babble. Castiel is struck by how adorable he is, in the split second before his brain processes Dean's sentence.

"Wait- you were going to ask me out?"

"Well, I mean, uh, yeah. Maybe. But I didn't know which apartment you lived in…"

Castiel is struggling to not get up and jump for joy, especially since his insides appear to be doing a pretty good job of it for him.

"You _really_ want to go out some time?"

"Well… yeah."

"With me?"

"No, with Chuck the landlord. Yes, with you."

_Don't squeal, Castiel. Don't squeal, Castiel._

"I-" Castiel begins. He has to clear his throat, since that part came out a little high and squeaky. "I'd like that."

"Really?" Dean asks eagerly. Castiel nods and Dean smiles that radiant smile again. Castiel blushes and looks down, and catches sight of his watch.

"It's getting late. I should go."

"Oh, okay. Tomorrow? Say around seven?" Dean suggests.

"Yeah, absolutely," Castiel replies pleased. He gets up to go to the door and Dean goes with them. He steps back through the door when Dean grabs him by the shoulders and kisses him. Castiel's eyes widen in surprise.

When Dean pulls away, what seems like both hours later and only seconds, he smiles and pushes something into Castiel's hands. Castiel looks down and sees the jacket.

"It looks good on you. See you tomorrow."


End file.
